


Epilogue to Forgive Me Pretty Baby

by ohnoscarlett



Series: Pretty Baby [2]
Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Babies, Epilogue, F/M, Fluff, Genderswap, Marriage, Schmoop, girl!Brendon, girl!Ryan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 14:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10923720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnoscarlett/pseuds/ohnoscarlett
Summary: Horrifically schmoopy epilogue to girlverse. Marriage and babies. Yeah, I went there.DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Obviously.NOTES: This is fic of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by tuesdaysgone and kueble.





	Epilogue to Forgive Me Pretty Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Horrifically schmoopy epilogue to girlverse. Marriage and babies. Yeah, I went there.  
> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Obviously.  
> NOTES: This is fic of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by tuesdaysgone and kueble.

_Epilogue: 2012_  
  
The four of them stood on the stage, alternately grinning maniacally and blinking dazedly at each other. They had _won_. Actually _won_. _They_ knew the album had been their best so far. Better than Progression and Pretty. Better than _Fever_. They loved it; had fun with it. Apparently it showed.  
  
They were at the Grammys. The motherfucking _Grammys_. And they had won.  
  
Bren beamed out at the audience, her head held high and proud. She clutched Ryan’s hand tightly. It kept them grounded. Spencer clutched the statuette. That was usually his job: do not let Bren have the award. Someone invariably got hurt when Bren got to hold the award.  
  
Jon spoke for them. He bent to speak into the microphone while the rest of them crowded behind him. Spencer just tried not to poke him with the award.  
  
“We would like to thank… everyone. Everyone involved in this record. Everyone not,” Jon grinned. “Thank you. It’s an honor.” Jon turned and looked at Spencer. Spencer shrugged and stepped forward. It was usually his job to talk too, just to make sure everything that needed to be said was said.  
  
“Wow. That’s pretty much all we need to say.” Spencer shrugged again.  
  
The audience laughed. Bren rested her head on Ryan’s shoulder, giggling. Spencer glanced over his shoulder and met Ryan’s eyes, and she smiled, shaking her head. He turned back to the crowd, making a _yep, we’re done here_ kind of salute. Spencer rejoined the rest of his band behind him, moving to leave the stage. But Jon stepped up again.  
  
“Oh wait, I have something else to say.” He took a deep breath, and Spencer inexplicably felt a chill run down his spine. “I’ve been planning this since we released Progression. Because Bren would say it’s about chords and life all at once. And she’s right; that’s true.” Spencer stood there with Ryan and Bren, just listening to Jon ramble. Thinking, _yeah, or you know, a bunch of songs about Jon Walker’s fabulous dick_. And hearing Bren’s manic laughter in his head. But Jon continued. “This would have made more sense then… But I can’t wait any longer.” Jon turned to face them and dropped to his knees.  
  
Bren and Ryan both gasped audibly, and Ryan took a hasty step closer to Spencer, dropping Bren’s hand.  
  
Jon held a ring in his outstretched hand.  
  
The auditorium was silent.  
  
“Will you marry me, Bren?”  
  
Tears sparked in her eyes, and a hand flew to her mouth, but Bren nodded enthusiastically. The crowd erupted behind him, and Jon somehow managed to stand and slide the ring on Bren’s finger before she flung herself into his arms.  
  
Ryan pressed closer to Spencer’s side. He wrapped an arm around her waist and bent to drop a kiss on her hair. He pressed his cheek to her head, and they stood there for a moment watching Jon and Bren shine.  
  
***  
  
It was late when Spencer and Ryan tumbled into their hotel room. They had been obliged to stay at the after-parties. Everyone from the label had been there, and Pete wouldn’t hear of any of them leaving. It took his own anxious wife to convince him to start letting people go, including themselves. There were _babies_ at home.  
  
It still kind of freaked Spencer out that Pete Wentz was someone’s father.  
  
So Spence and Ryan had been able to escape, thanks to Ashlee.  
  
And now, now they were at their hotel. He could see Ryan look around the room appraisingly, her eyebrows arching sharply. They really had gone all out for him: flowers, candles, champagne on ice. His heart sank.  
  
“What’s the matter?” Ryan cocked her head.  
  
“Nothing,” he said, making his way over to the champagne bucket, focused on peeling off the foil and working the cork. _Stupid Jon Walker_. Now he couldn’t… There was a whisper of fabric behind him and Ryan slipped her arms around his waist. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder as she slid her hands up to his chest, then down again.  
  
Spencer continued to struggle with the cork. Weren’t they supposed to start these things for you? Just so this sort of thing wouldn’t happen? His fingers slipped on the damp bottle, and he nearly dropped it, slicing open his thumb on the twisted wires. They both hissed as the blood welled up. Ryan disappeared into the bathroom, returning quickly, bearing a damp washcloth and a slightly amused look. She shook her head as she grasped his bloody hand.  
  
“Some days I wonder about you,” she said.  
  
_Me too_.  
  
Ryan silently cleaned and bandaged his wound, pressing a kiss to the uninjured tip of his thumb when she was done. She then made her way over to sit at the suite’s sofa, pulling a rose out of an arrangement as she passed. Spencer watched her as she sniffed it casually, then began to dismember it equally so. She smiled at him then, and jerked her chin at the still-unopened bottle. He managed to finish opening it without further bloodletting.  
  
They sat together drinking champagne and talking. Ryan kicked off her perilously high heels and curled into his side with a sigh.  
  
“Can you believe it?” she asked wistfully.  
  
“That you got all dressed up and put on girl shoes?” Spencer replied with a smirk. “No.” Ryan poked him in the ribs, making him giggle and snort into his champagne flute, which she promptly took away. Ryan climbed into his lap, straddling his hips. The skirt of her dress hiked up around her thighs. Spencer relaxed back into the sofa with a sigh, his palms sliding up Ryan’s long legs until he reached the tops of her “ _real silk, Ryan, look!_ ” stockings. “I like these,” he said absently. Ryan grinned.  
  
“We’ll have to be careful, then,” she said before tugging at his belt, grinning harder. Spencer slid further down into the sofa, letting Ryan manhandle him sort of half out of his pants. He held still as she positioned herself above him, simply pushing her panties aside before sinking down onto him.  
  
Spencer fought to keep his eyes open, on Ryan. He wanted to sink into the sofa, let the sensation of her surround him. But he didn’t. He watched her, and she watched him. It was such a little thing, yet surprisingly intimate. Spencer clutched at Ryan’s thighs and thrust up, harder and harder, until Ryan threw her head back and dug her fingers into the join of his neck and shoulder, a high whine in the back of her throat. She writhed, crying out loud when Spencer held her still and came hard. He knew she could feel the pulsing inside her; she had told him about it before in great, filthy, dirty detail.  
  
Ryan did have a way with words.  
  
She sauntered off to the bathroom after tucking him neatly back into his pants. Spencer took a moment to enjoy the post-coital buzz before resuming his never-to-be-voiced bitch-out to Walker. His plans were ruined, and he couldn’t even make Jon pay. Ryan would kill him if he spoiled Jon and Bren’s happiness in any way, shape, or form. Something like this would never have happened to her. Ryan always knew exactly what was going on with her band.  
  
Spencer froze in horror. _Fuck_.  
  
Ryan stood in front of him with a bemused expression on her face.  
  
“So,” she began. Spencer arched an eyebrow at her, working frantically to feign coolness. Ryan merely continued looking at him. “Are you going to do it, or are you going to make me suffer?”  
  
“I beg your pardon?”  
  
“ _Spence_ ,” Ryan sighed. She turned away, dragging a hand through her hair. Spencer stood hastily and crossed the room to where she stood. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her close.  
  
“I thought I just did it,” he said; trying for light. His lips brushed her neck. Ryan snorted softly and batted at his hands. He knew she was smiling again, even if he couldn’t see it. “I didn’t know if you’d be upset about Jon and Bren.” Ryan jerked. “No, no, I know. I love them too. It’s great; I’m really very happy for them; blah blah blah.” Ryan stifled a laugh and Spencer smiled into her hair. Then he pulled the velvet bag out of his pocket, squeezing tightly so he could feel the contents inside.  
  
Yes, it was a bag. Not a box.  
  
It was far easier to tote around a tiny, squashy bag in his pocket. And it had been. For weeks. It was time to let it go.  
  
Spencer closed his eyes and reached around Ryan again.  
  
“I didn’t know if you’d want a day of your own,” he said, pressing the velvet into her hands. Ryan stopped breathing. Spencer actually started to worry before she turned in his arms. She was pale, white as a ghost, but there was a hint of a smile behind the way she gripped her lower lip between her teeth. Spencer relaxed then. He released her and grasped her hands, swiping his thumbs over her skin. He drew a shaky breath and glanced at Ryan’s face before letting his knees bend.  
  
A look of horror flashed across Ryan’s face.  
  
“No! No!” she cried, tugging at Spencer’s hands.  
  
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he straightened again, quickly.  
  
“You can’t—Spence, you—“ Ryan paused, obviously trying to collect her thoughts. “It’s too much like—like begging, Spence. I want you on your feet. _Please_.”  
  
“You do like to keep me on my toes,” Spencer said softly. Ryan closed her eyes and sighed. “And you _have_ reduced me to begging.” Ryan shook her head. Spencer couldn’t believe the crap that was coming out of his mouth, either. He raised one of her hands and kissed the palm before cradling it against his cheek. “I love you, Ry,” he said, essentially into her wrist. “I always have. I always will. If you let me.” Spencer took the velvet bag from Ryan’s grasp and opened it, fishing out the ring. “Please, Ryan. Will you?”  
  
Ryan’s gaze didn’t waver from the space between them on the floor, but Spencer could see her cheeks turn pink and the corners of her lips tilt up. When she finally met his eyes, Ryan’s own were bright with unshed tears, and Spencer actually had a moment of shock. Even after nearly twenty years, Spencer could count on one hand the times he had seen Ryan cry. But then she smiled.  
  
“Yes.” And Spencer relaxed. Ryan grinned at his outburst of breath and snatched the ring out of his hands. He laughed at her, but watched as she slipped it on her finger and pretended not to examine it.  
  
“Go ahead,” he said. Ryan’s head jerked up and she looked at him guiltily. “Check it out; I know you want to.” Ryan blushed.  
  
“No,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I want to check _you_ out.” Spencer snorted. “Besides, it’s not like Bren and I won’t spend every waking moment for the rest of this tour comparing notes.”  
  
“True,” he said with a smirk.  
  
“Don’t make fun of me,” Ryan said, fighting to hold a pretty pout. “I could put your eye out with this thing.” And she brandished her ring at him like the least threatening brass knuckles ever.  
  
***  
  
_Much Later_  
  
Ryan and Bren stood at the edge of the sofa, looking at the baby. He was bundled tightly in his blankets and tucked snugly in the notch of a crescent-shaped pillow.  
  
“Is that… _swaddling?_ ” Ryan asked in a low voice.  
  
“Yeah.” Bren gazed adoringly on the tiny bundle, casting a quick glance over at Jon, who was passed out in a chair a few feet away.  
  
“And is that pillow thing a, uh, boppy?”  
  
“Yeah,” Bren replied with a laugh. Ryan was ridiculous. It was as if she had never _seen_ a baby before, goodness sakes.  
  
“What’s he doing?” The baby periodically made soft noises, but he was clearly asleep.  
  
“I think he’s dreaming.” Bren smiled at him indulgently. She was besotted. It was awful.  
  
“Really?” Ryan asked skeptically.  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“I don’t know, higher brain functions and all that.”  
  
“I don’t think dreaming is a higher brain function, Ryan,” Bren said. “ _Dogs_ dream.” Ryan shrugged. “Where’s Spence?” Way to change the subject.  
  
“I don’t know; hiding somewhere with Pete and Mikey, I guess.” Bren raised a questioning eyebrow. “I know, I know. But Spence is the responsible one. And Pete and Mikey are pretty harmless these days.” Ryan looked at the baby again. “He looks like an eighteen-year-old frat boy who’s had five or ten too many. If that was a beanbag chair instead. He could crush beer cans on his forehead.”  
  
Bren squawked, scandalized.  
  
“Ryan! You’re _evil!_ ” Bren wailed. “Little Stanley Way is gorgeous! And—and, he would never! Mikey wouldn’t—Gerard would—“ And Bren quite suddenly and inexplicably dissolved into tears. Ryan immediately implemented her Crying!Bren tactics and stood as still as possible. Ryan treated her like a velociraptor: if she didn’t move, Bren couldn’t see her. It kind of usually worked.  
  
But Jon woke with a start.  
  
“What’s wrong, love?” he said, getting to his feet. “Are you okay?” Bren tripped to his side and buried her head in his chest, heaving a shuddering sigh.  
  
“Yeah,” she wavered, offering a watery smile. “I’m fine. Just a little… you know.” Jon grinned and patted her hip.  
  
“Good,” he said. Then he turned to Ryan with a smirk. “Quit torturing Bren. And pick up that poor, ugly baby. He needs some love.” They all laughed, especially when Ryan glanced down to see that the baby was still fast asleep and completely oblivious to everything going on around him.  
  
“I’d watch what you say about that baby, Walker,” said Spencer from across the room. Ryan met his eyes and he smiled before moving to join them. “Alicia is around here somewhere. She’s killed men for lesser offenses.” Jon snorted. “And the MCR guys have this freaky pseudo-familial bond thing going on that I really wouldn’t want to get in the middle of.”  
  
“I knew it: Iero’s mafia,” Jon deadpanned. Bren giggled into his shirt.  
  
“Can’t be worse than us,” Ryan mused.  
  
“Oh, Auntie Ry,” Bren sniffled again. “I’m touched.” Ryan squinted at her.  
  
“You’re so weird.”  
  
They all jumped when the baby shrieked. And the only one of them who didn’t actually take a step back was Bren, who danced forward to scoop him up. She shot a glare at Jon while she cuddled the baby and cooed and waltzed him around the room.  
  
“Your mommy told me to leave you be,” she sang. “But you’re just too sweet. Yes you are!”  
  
“Like I said…” Ryan mumbled. Jon elbowed her in the side. The baby continued to scream, and Bren was beginning to fray around the edges.  
  
“Here,” Spencer reached for the tiny bundle. “Babies love me.” Ryan and Bren both eyed him dubiously. “No, really.” He made gimme hands at Bren. “I don’t _know_. My sisters…” Bren shrugged and handed him the baby.  
  
The baby hiccupped once or twice and fell back asleep. Spencer grinned smugly until another child came flying into the room and attached herself to his leg.  
  
“ _Uncle Spencer!_ ” five-year-old Elena Way screeched, in that way only five-year-olds can. She was followed by Lindsay and Alicia, who pried Elena off Spencer and took away baby Stanley, respectively.  
  
“Thanks, man, the kids love you,” Lindsay said, peering out from around a head of tousled black curls. Spencer just shrugged and ducked his head. Lindsay terrified him. Alicia snickered. “Gerard just called to say they were running late. Something about bingo…” She made a vague hand gesture. “But that you guys should take off if you wanted and he would catch up with you later.”  
  
They had been dismissed. Maybe it _was_ kind of like the Mafia. Gerard _had_ made them an offer they couldn’t refuse…  
  
Bren was strangely silent as they made their way back to their condo. She wasn’t just saving her voice for recording. She was quiet, and it was _weird_. It made Ryan uncomfortable.  
  
Ryan actually opened her mouth to ask different variations of the same question several times, but never got anything to come out. Bren patted her hand and stared out the window. Something was wrong. Ryan wasn’t about to sit idly by and let Bren struggle on her own. She opened her mouth again, determined, but Bren cut her off.  
  
“I’ll talk to you later.” And that was that.  
  
Ryan took the opportunity, once they got back, to spend some quality time worshipping the sun. It might be Jersey, but it was still summer. She stripped down and changed into a teeny bikini before Spence even had a chance to come out of the bathroom.  
  
Ryan was half asleep and probably burnt when she heard a sliding glass door open.  
  
“I’m ready to talk. I want to talk.” Ryan opened her eyes and gazed at Bren’s figure in the doorway.  
  
“Okay,” she said, and got up. Inside, Spencer was nowhere to be seen. Nor was Jon.  
  
“I made Jon take Spencer out. I didn’t want…” Ryan laid a hand on Bren’s arm.  
  
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? You’re freaking me out.”  
  
Bren laughed. Ryan frowned.  
  
“I’m pregnant.” Ryan sat down hard on the sofa, lucky that it was behind her, or she would have sat down hard on the floor.  
  
“I thought you were fighting with Jon! Or dying! Or thinking about leaving the band! Not that you were—you’ve been married for about five minutes! What the hell?”  
  
Bren laughed again at Ryan’s discomfiture.  
  
“I’m touched by your concern, Ryan.” Bren sat next to her and wrapped a skinny arm around her neck. She was surprised when Ryan actually hugged her back. “And we’ve been married for longer than five minutes…” Ryan grumbled. “Hey! You’re lucky I don’t have six kids and a husband who doesn’t let me go outside.”  
  
“True. Jon’s good like that,” Ryan said dryly.  
  
“We Uries are just a fertile lot,” Bren chirped.  
  
“Ick.” Bren poked Ryan in the side. It didn’t make her loose her grip around Bren’s waist.  
  
They sat in silence for several minutes. Ryan didn’t understand how Bren could just sit there breathing calmly while she herself cast her mind about in all directions. She didn’t know what to do with herself. Bren’s eyes slowly widened until she was practically gaping at Ryan in horror.  
  
“ _Oh my God_ ,” she whispered. “You’re—“ Ryan jumped.  
  
“What? No, no! Oh, _hell_ no,” Ryan babbled.  
  
“But you want to be,” Bren said with certainty. “You want a baby too.” Ryan sat very still for a few moments, taking stock.  
  
“I do,” she admitted finally.  
  
“Holy shit!”  
  
“I know. Shut up,” Ryan grumbled. Bren grinned. Ryan examined her closely. “Aren’t you scared?”  
  
“No,” Bren didn’t even pause to think. “Well, maybe a little, but that’s normal. There’s some strange shit going on, but for the most part I feel the same. And it’ll all turn out ok in the end.”  
  
“That’s kind of what I’m worried about.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Bren squinted at her, and Ryan sighed.  
  
“It’s just scary.”  
  
“What, like the end part? Because that’s what they have drugs for, Ryan. I hear they give you the good shit.” Bren smiled broadly and Ryan snorted. When Ryan didn’t respond further, Bren continued. “Or are you worried about the band?”  
  
“A little of column A, a little of column B,” Ryan finally admitted. “I’m petrified. What’s going to happen to us, Bren?” She was getting a little frantic, so Bren pulled Ryan into an embrace and didn’t let go.  
  
“It’ll be ok; you’ll see. Babies didn’t change Fall Out Boy; they didn’t change MCR. Everyone is just the same. If anything, they’re better. Look at Cobra. Since they had Eugenie, they’re stronger than ever. Those boys are devoted to her,” Bren said with some measure of pride.  
  
“Gabe even got some of his creepy back,” Ryan mumbled into Bren’s shoulder. Bren giggled and squeezed Ryan tighter.  
  
“See? We’ll be ok.” She patted Ryan’s back. “Jon and I still love you. Our baby won’t change that. Neither will yours. You’ll still love us just the same. Plus, you’ll get to have a tiny little person who’s part you and part Spence…” Bren sighed wistfully and cradled Ryan gently. “Can you imagine? Little round cheeks, big blue eyes.”  
  
“Do _you_ want to have Spencer’s babies, Bren? Geez.” Ryan smiled against Bren’s skin.  
  
“Hell, who doesn’t?” she laughed. “Maybe next time.” Bren waggled her eyebrows and both of them cracked up.  
  
“I hope I would get some say in that,” said Spencer from across the room. Ryan jumped, but Bren retained her hold, patting her shoulder reassuringly. Ryan still hated to show her vulnerability, even to them.  
  
Jon and Spencer stood in the doorway, holding grocery bags. Ryan and Bren had quite obviously not heard them come in. Hadn’t heard the car in the drive.  
  
“Me too,” Jon agreed. “I don’t share well.” Bren snickered and Ryan shuddered.  
  
“Oh, thank god,” Ryan gasped. “No offence, B.”  
  
“None taken,” Bren said tenderly. “You don’t share well either.”  
  
“Ew. I see you naked enough.” Ryan shuddered again.  
  
“What? Where were you going with _that_ idea? No, no, no. We’re not Cobra Starship, Ry, you kinky bitch.” Ryan recoiled in horror while the other three laughed.  
  
“Come on, we have food here,” Jon said, gesturing with his bags. Ryan and Bren stood and followed them into the kitchen. Spencer dumped his bags on the counter and snagged Ryan as she approached, pulling her back into the other room and away from Jon and Bren.  
  
“Hey,” he said, dropping a brief kiss to her lips. “What’s up? You ok?”  
  
“Yeah,” Ryan said sheepishly, pressing her forehead to Spencer’s shoulder and sinking into his presence. “It’s nothing.”  
  
“Do we need to have a talk?” Spencer asked softly.  
  
“Not now.”  
  
“We can have as many babies as you want, you know. Or not. Whatever you want.”  
  
“Heard that, huh?” Ryan sighed. Spencer nodded.  
  
“Whatever you want, Ry. I mean it. Anything.” Ryan cuddled him closer.  
  
“Just go fuck already!” Bren yelled from the kitchen. They could hear Jon giggling in the background.  
  
“Yeah, um, no,” Spencer said. Ryan smirked.  
  
“Maybe later,” she said.  
  
“Later,” he promised. “Let’s go eat.”  
  
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Food now, fuck later.” Spencer’s eyes flashed and he gripped her tighter.  
  
“Ryan,” Spencer growled. She shivered against him.  
  
“Later, love. Later.”  
  
“Promise.”


End file.
